A Coliseum of Fall

It's mid-October in Delaware and the temperatures are still approaching the eighties on a daily basis. For the most part, the leaves are still green. As I entered my truck for the drive home, everything felt like summer and there wasn't a hint of Fall in the air. Two hours north, in the heart of Pennsylvania, the Fall season is nearing its peak. Leaves are yellow, orange, red, and every shade in between. When I exited my vehicle in Pennsylvania, my senses immediately registered everything there is to love about Fall, my favorite being the smell. Try as I might, it is hard to put into words how much I love the smell of dead leaves rustling through the wind. It ranks a close second to the smell of an old growth forest after a brief thunderstorm. There is also a slight chill in the air, something that is noticeably absent in Delaware. Fall is definitely here and the signs are everywhere.

Small Stream Magicicadas

With the action for magicicadas slowing down considerably, I decided to check out a nearby small stream to see if it's resident trout were just as eager to hammer the 17-year insects. The nearby stream averages 5-10 ft. wide and has some very heavy cover. Packing a 9ft. 5wt. I was not prepared for some close quarters combat, but I had no other option. I also decided that the best way to fish the stream was to fish downstream. This allowed me to present my fly with a dead drift, using the current and slack line to feed the pattern downstream. A simple roll cast allowed me to re-present the fly with ease and decrease snags. I caught a mix bag of stocked and wild fish but managed to catch a brown, brook, and bow on top.

The next week, with magicicadas nearing their end, I guided my buddy Eric, who came up from Delaware specifically to catch a wild brown on a cicada dry fly. With a lot of water blown out from heavy rains, I took him to a spot that was miraculously uneffected by the rains. We ended up missing several takes by smaller fish. Defeated, I took him to a small stream that I had yet to target with cicada patterns. I took him immediately to the deepest pool on the stream and he caught a few fish that seemingly hit the dry flies as soon as they touched water. The majority of fish caught had bulging bellies where you could feel the indentations of cicadas in their stomachs. They were gorged.

Although not as rewarding as bigger fish on larger bodies of water, the small streams and small fish were just as exciting. Cicada fishing in general is just plain awesome.

Finding Brood II

When I arrived stream side for my first time fishing magicicadas, I could hear them in the trees. The noise was unmistakable and resonated from a hill covered in pines. The sci-fi sound came and went hourly throughout the day. Interestingly enough, the hill was the only section in the area where the sound was coming from. It was also where cicadas could be found in bushes, leaves, and littering the ground. Occasionally, you could even find a live cicada struggling as it floated downstream. Elsewhere,  you wouldn't even know that there were cicadas in the area. A half-mile downstream, I found another grouping of cicadas at the base of the mountain. In between those two areas is where I decided to concentrate my fishing efforts.

After my first cast into the stream, I knew I was in for a good day of fly fishing. A 17 inch wild brown gently sipped my size 6 cicada and the battle was on. As the day progressed, I had vicious attacks on my dry fly in every single good looking lie. On several occasions, fish would miss on their 1st, 2nd, and sometimes 3rd attempts before wising up to the folly at the end of my line. It was phenomenal fishing, and I was clearly the first person to toss a cicada on the stream. My brother finally got his act together and met me on the stream to catch a few beautiful browns of his own. Thunderstorms finally drove us off the water, but not before we were both satisfied with the action. We found out later that we weren't alone. Other anglers had keyed in on the insects as well and found success upstream of us.

When I fished the cicadas for the first time, I couldn't help but think about western hopper fishing. In Pennsylvania, terrestrial fishing can be good, but it never approaches the level of intensity of a western stream where trout hammer large hoppers along grassy banks every summer. It was nice to be able to experience something similar on my home waters and have some good sized wild browns willing to play in the middle of the day. Normally, summer days on streams like this are mostly hatch-less and the big trout don't show themselves too often. It was great to be able to experience it first hand.

Subsequent outings proved to be much less successful. Although eager to devour our large dry flies one day, future trips produced slow outings with the occasional nice fish. Waters nearby provided some action but everything failed to live up to that one afternoon. Myself and a few other anglers just timed it right and reaped the rewards. As the days went by, I began looking for other waters that held cicadas so I could replicate that experience of being the first to cast a cicada dry fly into a body of water.

Targeting areas of shade and structure proved to be highly effective...

Good male brown...

Fish also struck at the end of the drift as the cicada swung in the current...

Popping was effective too...

For the Love of Trout...

Trout are the keystone species in the sport of fly fishing. The overwhelmingly majority of fly fishermen begin their hobbies/careers targeting wild or stocked trout on their local waters. The experience molds us into the fishermen we become and sows the seeds of future success in the sport. Some fishermen begin with trout and rarely branch out to target other species in fresh or saltwater. Others start out trout fishing and pull away in separate directions. These fishermen usually end up focusing on a specific niche in fly fishing. This seems to be fairly common today, and the hot sub-groups in freshwater are carp and musky. Personally, I have been specializing in fly fishing for carp, and over the last few years, trout have taken the backseat. My argument lies in the fact that a lot of these "specialist" anglers forget about the trout. A small number actually grow, or pretend, to disdain them. This "too good for trout" attitude is gaining momentum and is a little hard to comprehend.

Over a weekend in the early spring, I ventured out to a small wild trout stream. I asked a few friends if they'd like to come along, but I got laughs and jeers in return. Really? As I began fishing, I couldn't help but think about their general disposition towards trout and how they got that way. A lot of people say that trout fishing is easy, but I can think of numerous places and times where I was left feeling pretty inadequate at the intelligence, wariness, and selective nature of trout. Places like the Upper Delaware will stump even the most seasoned anglers. A more common argument is the statement that, "I'd rather catch a 10 lb. (insert fish here) than a 10 inch trout". I think we all would, but the charm of trout fishing is much greater than that. It's about fishing in remote places, targeting wild beautiful fish, and matching the hatch. Its about small flies, small rods, and light tippet. Its the feeling that at any moment you might stumble upon a 10lb. trout and catch a fish of a lifetime.

I am not saying that trout are the best species to catch on a fly rod. I'll also be the first to admit that when faced with a choice between trout and a host of other species, I'd probably choose the more exotic fish every time. However, that does not give me reason to have a pretentious view of myself or the species I am targeting. The sport is filled with enough narcissism as is and just because someone is extremely good at something, it doesn't give them the option to look or talk down on trout. After all, it is fishing, whether your catching sunfish or tarpon. As I continue to become increasingly diverse in my fly fishing ventures, I will always have a soft spot for trout. I think deep down inside, a lot of the aforementioned people do too, whether they like to admit it, or not.